


Scenes I'd Like to See

by otherpartyfavors



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-22 03:43:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 6,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3713680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otherpartyfavors/pseuds/otherpartyfavors
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles of FitzSimmons scenes I that have wanted/currently want to see.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Scene I'd Like to See: #1

**Author's Note:**

> These are short ficlets that I have posted to my tumblr account, otherpartyfavors, that I decided to upload here!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post 2x10

Fitz waking up next to Jemma after they slept together for the first time. Fitz panicking because what if she hated it? What if she didn’t feel anything about it? Maybe she just needed someone, and he happened to be there. She most likely won’t want to repeat it. 

Fitz getting up slowly to go make some breakfast for Jemma, because that’s what you do, right? You make a girl breakfast after spending the night with her, right? 

Jemma waking up, in bed, alone. Where was Fitz? Did he panic? Does he think it was a mistake? Or worse, is he still mad at her for leaving? She had done all the explaining she could, what more did he need? He seemed alright last night…

Fitz walking back into his bedroom and immediately wanting to hide. Why did he make her breakfast? That was so cheesy. She’s going to think he’s stupid. She’s looking at him like he might be stupid.

Jemma crossing the room to him in an oversized t-shirt. Tears prickling her eyes because _he brought her breakfast. He doesn’t hate her._

Fitz placing the tray down on the table, mumbling something about thinking she might have been hungry. 

Jemma wrapping her arms around him, trying not to cry and trying to convey how much she loved being with him last night. How much she loves being with him now. 

Fitz noticing the tears and looking at her confused.  _Was it last night?_   He asks.  _Was it a mistake? Please tell me it wasn’t a mistake._

 _No, it wasn’t a mistake._ She says.  _I’m crying because–I don’t know–I guess I’m just so overwhelmed by how right this feels._

Fitz letting out a sigh of relief. She’s happy. She’s happy to be with him, and he can’t stop the smile creeping up on his face.  _Yeah, I know what you mean._


	2. Scene I'd Like to See: #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post 2x10

Jemma sitting next to Fitz after a particularly hard day, desperately wanting to make him feel better. 

Fitz saying he feels useless, not just as a scientist, but as a person. He feels alone, replaceable. Forgotten.

Jemma’s heart breaking as she assures him that he is not replaceable, especially to her.

Fitz not believing her.  _Oh yeah?_   He asks.  _What is it that I actually do for you? What am I besides a burden?_

Jemma panicking, thinking of how she has been murky on that question recently. She doesn’t quite know what he means to her. 

Jemma taking his hand while focusing on breathing evenly.  _You’re my best friend, Fitz,_  she says,  _and something else. I don’t know exactly. You’re-you’re_ my _Fitz, I guess. I don’t know what that means, and I don’t know if that’s something you want to be._

Fitz looking at Jemma with wide eyes.  _Your Fitz_ , he repeats.  _I like the sound of that._

Jemma smiling at his smile, tentatively rubbing her thumb over his hand. 

Fitz looking thoughtfully at their hands, then asking if she would ever want to be  _his_  Jemma. 

Jemma letting out a sigh and saying,  _Yes, I think I would like that someday._


	3. Scene I'd Like to See: #3

I have a feeling that when (notice I say  _when_  not  _if_ ) Fitz and Simmons get married, there will be no hype or grandiose proposal. 

They’ll just be sitting there, after they’ve been together for some time, and Fitz will ask Jemma  _Hey, have you ever thought about, you know, getting married?_

_Married? To you?_

_Yes to me. Who else would I be talking about?_

_I don’t know. I guess I’ve thought about it. But technically we don’t have identities. How would that even work?_

_Yeah, I guess it wouldn’t be a legal thing…_

_Still might be nice, though. Make it official, for us at least._

_You know, we’ll be in London on mission next week…_

_Hmm… a wedding back home?_

_Well, nothing fancy. Just us, but it would feel better to be on UK soil, you know?_

_Yeah. I’m game if you are._

_Yeah? Good. It’s a date._


	4. Scene I'd Like to See: #4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Near future AU, written post 2x10

Fitz not knowing how to act around Jemma in the lab now that they’re together. Should he be flirty? Should he be strictly professional? Probably professional. Jemma would appreciate that.

Jemma coming up behind him and poking him in the butt. 

Fitz screeching in surprise, looking around to see if anyone saw.  _Jemma, for godssake, what if someone saw that?_

Jemma rolling her eyes. _Fitz, I am perfectly aware that no one is around. Everyone is either asleep or in the training room._

Fitz calming down, nodding his head towards her while packing up his project for the night. 

Jemma packing up her things as well, yawning and trying unsuccessfully to cover her mouth. 

Fitz getting an idea. If she can poke him in the butt, it shouldn’t be a problem. Fitz walking up to Jemma, grabbing her around the waist, and kissing her. 

Jemma pulling away after a moment.  _No, no, what are you doing? Someone could see us!_

_I–What? You’re the one who just tickled my bum and you’re getting mad at me?_

_That was different._

_How on earth was that different?_

Jemma rolling her eyes again. _Oh, I don’t know. This PDA thing is going to take time to work out, isn’t it?_

_Yes, especially when we are trying to take the ‘P’ out of it._

Jemma stepping forward, taking Fitz’s hand. _Well, I do know of a way to make things less public…_

Fitz raising his eyebrows.  _Yeah? What do you have in mind?_

_Follow me, please._


	5. Scene I'd Like to See: #5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post 2x12

Fitz and Simmons standing in the lab, turned away from each other. 

Jemma setting her test tube down, shaking. Shaking from anger. Shaking from fear. Shaking from guilt, grief, and pain.  _You lied to me._

Fitz not looking at her. Fitz not understanding her.  _I know._

_Why would you do that? You had no right–-_

_–-Oh, like you haven’t lied to me before!_

Jemma taking a step back, feeling as though she has been shot in the chest, unable to comprehend the look he is giving her. He’s never looked at her with that much anger. 

Fitz turning away from her. He sees her pain, but he can’t close the distance. He’s too angry. She shouldn’t be angry at him for lying. She should be apologizing for making him lie. 

Fitz beginning to speak, slowly.  _You know why I lied. I didn’t do it lightly._

Jemma looking down at her feet, shame and guilt and grief bubbling up so fast she doesn’t know what to do.  _You know I would never hurt Skye. You have to know that…_

Fitz fully realizing how far she is from him, how he can’t decipher her motives anymore.  _I don’t know, Jemma._

Jemma letting out a sob, trying to look up at him, but not able to see him through the rush of tears that have formed. She feels herself fall to the floor, finally losing all the control she had mustered over the last few days. How did everything become so terrible? 

Jemma feeling arms around her, vaguely registering who they belong to. 

Jemma reaching out and pulling him in so fast and so close, because she is not letting him get away from her ever again. 


	6. Scene I'd Like to See: #6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Future AU

Jemma coming out of the bedroom after hearing Fitz come home. Her hands start to shake slightly, and she can’t keep the wide smile from creeping across her face.

Fitz sets down a couple brown bags of groceries, looking up and noticing her expression.  _What are you so happy about?_

 _Oh, well, you know…_  She’s fidgeting, trying to figure out the best way to tell him.  _I took a test today…_

Fitz’s face goes blank as he stares at her.  _You–-you took a test–-was it–-was it positive?_

The smile on Jemma’s face somehow gets wider.  _Mmmhmmm,_ she nods. 

After emptying his armful of groceries by dumping them in the sink, he closes the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her in a matter of seconds.  _We really did it this time?_

 _Yep. Third time’s the charm._ She leans her forehead into his, savoring the moment. 

_Time to break out that ridiculous baby name book your mum got us, isn’t it?_

Jemma laughs, remembering her mother’s not-so-subtle hint from several years back.  _Yes, I believe it is._  


	7. Scene I'd Like to See: #7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post 2x16

Jemma and May stepped quickly onto the plane’s ramp as it hovered over the ground, ready to ascend. It took only a moment for Jemma to scan the cargo bay of the plane, noting Coulson, Hunter, and Mike Peterson in the cockpit. 

Before she could register her surprise at seeing Mike, another person stepped into her field of vision. Fitz stood, grabbing hold of a handle to steady himself before taking a step towards her. 

Jemma’s stomach lurched at the sight of him. She became hyper-aware of every inch of her body, and suddenly had no idea what to do with her hands. 

As the plane leveled out, Jemma stepped forward, closing the distance between them and wrapping her arms around him. 

“I’ve missed you,” she mumbled into his neck. 

“I’ve missed you, too,” he whispered back into her ear, giving her an extra tight squeeze around her waist. 

They stayed like that long enough for Jemma to forget there were other people on the plane, until Coulson loudly cleared his throat. 

“Sorry to bother this beautiful reunion, but,” Coulson started, “I do need to know: do you two have anything you need to disclose?”

Jemma’s jaw dropped, and luckily Fitz was the first to respond. 

“Dis-disclose? What do you mean?” he stammered out. 

“I mean has the nature of your relationship changed?” Coulson clarified. 

“Oh, um, well, I ah,” Fitz mumbled. 

Jemma’s heart rate increased as Fitz looked to her for help. “Well, sir,” she began, “things are fine. Nothing to disclose yet.”

“Yet?” piped up Hunter. “That sounds incriminating.” 

Jemma could feel herself going red. “Well, not yet, as in  _yet_ yet, just yet as in… the ambiguity of future events… never really knowing what the future holds… you know, we haven’t figured out time travel yet…”

“Okay, stop.” This time May spoke. “This isn’t really a conversation to have with everyone present,” she whispered into Coulson’s ear. 

“What? I thought you would want to know just as much as me,” Coulson protested. “We’ve got good money going on these two. Timing is everything–”

“–Wait, you’re betting on us?” Jemma called out in shock. 

“They were betting on you back when I was with the team,” yelled out Mike from the cockpit. 

“Oh,” was all Jemma could muster, in a small voice. She glanced over at Fitz to see him beat red, twisting in his hands together as he made his way over to his seat. 

“The real bet, though, is how long it’ll take for me to win over Agent May,” added Hunter.

“Not on your life…” May retorted. 

As the conversation continued, Jemma sat back down next to Fitz, and quietly said, “Well, I’ve about died from embarrassment. I guess we should chat about it. Later. Now’s not really the time.”

He smiled back at her. “Right. Definitely not the time.  _Yet_.” His smirk widened with the last word, and Jemma knew she would never get over her poor choice of words. 


	8. Scene I'd like to see: #8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post 2x18

Fitz wrapped his arms around her for the tenth time that night. Finally the stars had aligned: they had an extended moment to themselves, and both of them plucked up the courage to lay out all their concerns, all their worries and hurts, all the reasons they had become so distant.

A shiver went down his spine as Jemma’s mouth grazed across his neck. Perhaps he hadn’t come clean with everything, as neither of them had mentioned what he told her in the pod. He pulled away from their embrace slightly, his heart rate increasing. He had to say something. Keeping things hidden clearly wasn’t working for them anymore.

“Fitz,” Jemma said, as she raised a hand to his cheek, eyes searching his, “What’s wrong?”

“I…” He paused. How on earth was he supposed to do this? Before it almost slipped out. He confessed his feelings because he thought he was going to die. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, willing himself to find the words to say. But before he found any, he jumped slightly at the sudden pressure and warmth on his forehead. She was resting against him, and her proximity made his pulse quicken ever more.  

“Fitz,” Jemma whispered, moving her hand now to his chest. “Please tell me.”

“My…” He took another deep breath. “I…” Dammit, he thought, as he pulled his face back to look at her fully. He was never good with words, and she was so close…

The thought flashed across his mind in an instant, and before he could stop himself, he closed the distance between them, kissing her softly and praying she wouldn’t hate him for it. After a few seconds of stillness, it became very apparent that she did not hate him for it, and in fact, may have been very happy with him because of it.

After a few more moments passed, Fitz stepped back slightly, opening his eyes to the most brilliant smile he had seen in months.

“Was that okay?” he asked, trying unsuccessfully to stop his own smile from stretching across his face.

Jemma let out a small laugh, nodding her head slightly as she said, “Yes, Fitz. That was very much okay.”

“Yeah?” he asked, checking every inch of her face to make sure her expression was genuine.

“Yeah,” she answered, pulling his body closer to hers as she slid her arms around his waist.

“Then,” he said, moving his arms around her back and neck, “can I do it again?”


	9. Scene You'd like to see: #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post 2x19

_[Milestone prompt](http://otherpartyfavors.tumblr.com/post/118129081724/about-to-hit-a-follower-milestone) from [philyg123](http://tmblr.co/mnR2EjKjbYabM3t1whpUzqw): Oh a scene where Fitz and Simmons finally sort out their crap bc this has to happen soon. PPllllleeeeaaassseee :)_

**(Be warned that this turned out WAY longer than I thought it would. Lots of tears, yelling, and angst.)**

“Jemma…” Fitz was moving towards her slowly, as she leaned up against her bedroom door. Her whole body seemed to be shaking. “Jemma, what’s wrong?”

She closed her eyes as her forehead settled against the doorframe. She mumbled something unintelligible, squeezing her eyes shut as if to stop any light entering her field of vision. 

“Come on, Jemma, you can talk to me, yeah?” Fitz asked, voice low and uncertain. They had been doing better, but she was still hiding so much from him. 

“It was me,” she muttered in an unnervingly still voice. 

“What was you?” Fitz asked.

“The one to kill Bakshi,” she said, finally looking up to meet him. “It was me.” Her tone was even, and her gaze steady, but her fists had balled up against her thighs and were trembling. 

Fitz moved his hands slightly, wanting to hold her fists and release the tension, but before his hands made it to her, Jemma had started forward into the room. Following her inside, Fitz gently closed the door. 

The click of the handle was the only sound that echoed for quite sometime. Eventually Fitz mustered the courage to speak. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Jemma turned around so that she could look at him. Her face was lined with tears and Fitz wondered how on earth she could cry so quietly. Without even thinking, he stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her. 

“It’s okay, Jemma,” he said into her neck. “No matter what happened, I’m here, okay? Everything is going to be fine.”

She gently pushed him away, holding him at arms length. “I didn’t mean to kill him,” she mumbled, looking at her feet, hands still attached to Fitz’s shoulders. “The splinter bomb…” Pausing again, she took a deep breath in and let a shaky breath out. “…it was meant for Ward.” 

Fitz was trying to put together the pieces in his mind. “Wait, so Ward attacked you? And Bakshi got in the way?” he said, pulse rising at the thought of Ward once again trying to hurt her. 

“No,” Jemma replied, looking into his face with an expression he had never seen before—a mixture of agony, hatred, and controlled nothingness. It terrified him. “No, he didn’t attack me,” she said, pulling away and walking to the back of the room. “He’s back was turned when I turned on the splinter bomb.” 

Fitz knew he didn’t have the right, but the only words that came out of his mouth were lined with anger. “What the hell were you thinking?”

She rounded on him. “What was I thinking? I don’t know, Fitz, what were you thinking when you nearly suffocated him?”

“I was thinking,” Fitz said, trying not to yell so loud as to alert the rest of the base, “that he was in cell. Ward wasn’t in a cell this time.”

“How does that make this any different?” she hissed. “You’re allowed to act on your anger, but I’m not, is that what you’re saying?”

“No, I’m saying you could have—you could have—have been bloody killed! He isn’t worth that!” Fitz felt himself falling apart. His hand had started shaking uncontrollably and his thoughts were becoming jumbled, not finding the words he needed. 

“I knew that going into it, thank you very much,” she replied, “and just for the record, even if I had died in the process, it would have been bloody well worth it as long as he was gone.”

“Having you die to kill him is  _not_  worth it to me!” Fitz said, cursing the angry tears that were now streaming down his face. 

“Oh? Not worth it to you? Right, right,” she said, revving up for something Fitz had a feeling he wasn’t prepared for, “God forbid I try to go against your wishes to keep me from harm! God forbid I try to protect  _your_  life, act out in anger against someone who hurt you!” She now was stepping forward, closing the distance between them. “Where on earth did you ever get the idea that my life mattered more than yours?”

He opened and closed his mouth before turning around to face the door. “Damn it,” he said, squeezing his shaking hand and trying to find his words. “You,” he said, not able to look at her. “You know why, Jemma, I told you.”

“NO!” she yelled, letting out a loud sob, “No! You don’t get to do that! You don’t get to assume you don’t mean as much to me! You should have taken it, you shouldn’t have given it to me!”

“Given what to me, Jemma?” Fitz asked, knowing what the answer would be. 

“The oxygen, I…” She paused, letting out a few more sobs. “I should have made you take it… I didn’t want to take it… It’s my fault, and—and your fault!” She was shaking to the core now, barely able to speak, but she kept going. “You wouldn’t take it!”

Fitz stepped forward, wanting to yell at her and comfort her all at the same time. “Jemma…”

“No,” she said, backing up, voice barely above a whisper. “No, no, it’s my fault… it’s all my fault.” 

“Jemma, none of this is your—“

“—IT’S ALL MY FAULT!” she screamed, and Fitz was almost positive the others could hear them now. “Your injury, Skye, and… and… Trip, and you hating me for so long…”

Fitz felt as if he had been plunged into a pool of icy water. “You—you think I hated you?” Guilt and shame rushed over him as he looked at her. He had made her feel this way, somehow. Somehow he made her feel like he hated her. 

“How could you not?” she sobbed, falling onto her bed. “How could you not hate me after I left?” 

“I—I never…”  _Damn it_ ,  _Fitz_ , he thought.  _Words_. “God, Jemma, I could never hate you.” 

Jemma looked up with the slightest bit of hope in her eyes, before shutting them tight and shaking her head. “No, no, I left you here alone, you have every right to hate me—“

“But I don’t, Jemma, I never did!” He moved to sit next to her on the bed, wiping her tears with his thumb. “I was frustrated, and I—I didn’t understand. I still don’t, really, but I never,  _never_  hated you.”

Her sobs just seemed to get worse with his words, so he wrapped her up in his arms again. “Jemma, I’m so, so sorry,” he whispered into her ear. “I assumed the worst instead of trusting you, and I took everything out on you. Jemma, I’m so sorry.”

She pulled back so that she could look at him. “No, I’m sorry—I was, I was trying to help. I thought you needed space—you were so frustrated when I was around—so I left. It was a mistake, but I never wanted to hurt you!” 

 _Trying to help_. Fitz couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle amidst his tears. “How on earth did we get here?” 

Jemma let out a shaky sigh, finally starting to calm herself down. “I don’t know Fitz, I don’t know. All I know is that I never want to go through that again.” 

“Me neither,” he said, smiling at her and pushing her hair out of her face. “And for the record, Skye’s powers and Trip… that’s not your fault. And you know that I had a broken arm, Jemma. If I had taken the oxygen, I would have tried to pull you up, and we wouldn’t be here now.”

She nodded slowly before pulling his neck in and once again their arms wrapped around each other. “We’re gonna be okay, right, Fitz?” she mumbled into his ear.

“Yeah, Jemma,” he mumbled back. “We’re gonna be just fine.”


	10. Scene You'd like to see: #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post 2x19

**Anonymous asked: Fitzsimmons prompt: Fitzsimmons first kiss.**

…

“Oh my god, Fitz,” Jemma hissed, pulling Fitz inside and shutting the door quickly. “Did you see that?”

“Yeah,” he answered, squeezing his eyes shut, “and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to unsee that…”  

She nodded in agreement. “I guess it’s safe to say that Hunter and Bobbi are back together…”

“Yeah that’s one way of putting it.”

Jemma chuckled as she plopped down on her bed. “I can’t believe they would chance doing _that_  out in the open. They’re spies, right? Seems very irresponsible of them.”

“Yeah, well,” Fitz said, as he sat down next to her, “perhaps some people just don’t have a lot of self control in that area.”

“Very true,” she replied, shifting the hand she was leaning on so that her pinky now rested across his pinky. “And perhaps some people have too much.”

Snapping his head to look at her in record time, Fitz opened and closed his mouth a few times while Jemma raised her eyebrow at him. She had also begun to slowly inch the rest of her hand over his.

But before her palm touched the back of his hand, he bolted upright. “Ah, Jemma,” he said, shaking out his hand, “you want to go get some tea from the kitchen?”

Jemma rolled her eyes. “We just had some tea an hour ago. Fitz, why are you so uncomfortable right now?” He had been doing this a lot lately. They had settled into a nice rhythm that felt almost like before, except now they would compliment each other often, Jemma would rub her hand up and down his back when he was overwhelmed, and Fitz would openly stare at her until she blushed. Jemma was sure that they were flirting, yet every now and then, when they found themselves alone, Fitz would tense up and suggest going to the kitchen for tea.  

“Pshh. Please, I’m not uncomfortable. Why would you think I’m uncomfortable?” He had started to pace a bit in front of the doorframe.

“You keep doing this, Fitz,” She said, standing up to meet him, “every time we get  _close_ , you run away!”

He looked lost for words, which was a very real possibility. “I, um, so—what do you mean by _close_? And I do not run away!”

“I mean, this,” she said, walking closer to him and sliding her fingers around his hands.

“But, but,” he stammered, “but you don’t want that.”

“Fitz, you’ve never even asked me,” she said, pulling her hands away and sighing. “You’re just going to assume that all the signals I’ve been sending are me teasing you for no reason?”

“Signals?” Fitz asked, looking at her like he had no idea what she was talking about. “The—the touches, and such, those…those were signals?”

“What else would they be? What else would it mean for a girl to rub your back, hold your hand, kiss your cheek?” She threw up her arms in exasperation, lying back onto her bed with an exaggerated  _thump_.

“That—that… that you see me as a relative or something…” Fitz also slumped over into a nearby chair, covering his face in the crook of his arm.

“A relative?”  _Dear god_ , she thought.  _Was she really that bad a flirting?_

“I mean,” he said, looking up from his arm but keeping his eyes mostly shut, “it’s really only been relatives who have done that sort of thing with me. Aunt Carol. My mum. You know how it goes…”

Jemma was reminded of her great Aunt Elise, who always insisted on kissing each cheek twice and then pinching them. “I suppose. But you know I’m not a relative, Fitz.”

“Yeah, I know, that, trust me,” he said, playing with a string on his shirt. “I don’t know, maybe I just didn’t want to get my hopes up.”

He finally looked up at her, and Jemma’s heart melted. “Fitz, do you feel the same way? The way you felt… before?”

He nodded his head ever so slightly.

“Well,” she said, standing up and walking towards him. “I feel that way, too.” She linked her hands with his, and gently pulled him to his feet.  

“Are you sure?” he mumbled, searching her face for any sign of discomfort.

“Yes, Fitz,” she said, while rolling her eyes once again. “Honestly, how many times—“

But she never finished that sentenced, because Fitz had finally kissed her. 


	11. Scene I'd like to see: #9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post 2x22

Fitz and Skye sat up against the wall, staring at the large object, a box of noodles passing between them.

Skye reached for the nearby bottle of whiskey, and after taking a swig, handed it to Fitz.

“We can still figure this out, Fitz,” she said, wincing slightly at the blend of whiskey and soy sauce in her mouth.

Fitz looked over at her. His eyes, which had been red from crying for so long, now looked empty, defeated. “It’s been three weeks,” he mumbled, looking back to the stone. “Three weeks and we haven’t figured out a damn thing.”

“I know,” Skye continued, “but we’re making headway on contacting Lady Sif. Our Asgardian allies must know something about this…” Her words trailed off as she noticed something strange happening with the stone.

They were used to seeing the stone turn to liquid, but this time it looked as if something, or someone, was mixed up in it.

“Did you—“ Fitz said, standing to his feet.

“Yes,” Skye finished, also standing and walking closer to the box. She didn’t quite know what she was seeing, but before anything fully registered, the contents of the box expanded, quickly filling up the space until there was nowhere else to go.

The box shattered, and Fitz and Skye ducked as black goo splashed all around them, hitting the walls and floors, then, miraculously, evaporating.

The only evidence left of the event was a figure standing where the stone once stood, covered in a strange, dark liquid and holding a sword.

“Wha—“ Fitz started, eyeing the figure as his mouth fell open.

“J-Jemma?” Skye asked, as the women with the sword turned to face them. Jemma Simmons was back. “What is that all over you?”

Jemma exhaled sharply, as if she had been running a marathon. “It’s blood,” she said, flicking her sword to remove any excess liquid. “Kree blood.”


	12. Scene I'd like to see: #10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post 2x22

Jemma was walking purposely toward him, taking off her protective eye goggles and gloves.  _So, what’s on the docket for tonight?_ She asked, giving him a mischievous smile.

He smiled at her, wrapping his arms around her waist.  _Oh, I don’t know. Just hanging out, maybe._

 _‘Hanging out’, huh?_  She moved closer, putting arms around his neck and raising her eyebrows.  _In your bed or mine?_

He chuckled for a moment, before leaning forward. The kiss was soft, but still far too heated to be appropriate in the lab. The rest of the scientist disappeared as Fitz and Simmons continued to embrace each other, hands roaming, the kiss deepening, Fitz turning so that Jemma was in between him and the counter.

Then all of a sudden everything stopped. Jemma was gone. She disappeared.

 _Jemma!_ Fitz called into the air, running through the lab, never finding her.

He woke with a start, covered in sweat. It was a dream. A good dream, until…

Fitz got up, slowly ambling towards the sink in the dark, socks dragging across the floor. He splashed his face, and then turned on the light.

He looked pale. Well, he was always pale, but now more so than usual. He stared at himself for a while, looking ahead but not seeing his reflection. In his minds’ eye all he saw was Jemma, right in front of him, wrapping her arms around him.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, until he noticed tears streaming down his face. He sank to the floor, overcome by his grief.

He had to find her. He had to find her and yet he didn’t know how. 


	13. Scene I'd like to see: #11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post 3x02

Jemma opened her eyes suddenly, keenly aware of the bright light overwhelming her vision.  _Why was is it so bloody bright?_  she thought to herself, lifting her head up from her pillow only to realize it wasn’t a pillow after all. It was Fitz. 

For the third night in a row–Jemma’s third night of being back at the base–they had fallen asleep like this. Fitz sat on the couch, head lolled to the side, as Jemma curled into his lap, head resting on his thigh. 

She stood up and turned the tv off, followed by all the lights in the room. Her eyes welcomed the darkness, but her mind did not. Her breath quickened as she felt the darkness, all too familiar, closing in around her, and she rushed to turn the lights back on. 

She squinted as light flooded into her eyes.  _This is silly_ , she thought.  _It’s nighttime. I should just turn the lights off._  Once again she turned them off, turning to walk back to the couch, but stopped. 

She couldn’t help but notice all the dark spaces. All the corners that housed who knows what. Waiting for her. Hunting her. 

She ran to the wall and turned the lights back on. 

 _Jemma?_  said Fitz, finally waking up. 

She froze. She didn’t know how to explain. She opened her mouth to speak, pointing vaguely at the light switch, but no words came out. 

 _Come here,_  he said softly, and she slowly made her way back to him. She curled into his side as he wrapped his arms around her. 

She buried her face into his neck, welcoming the relief on her eyes and the warm comfort of his presence. 


	14. Scene I'd like to see: #12 She Knows, or The Word is Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post 3x04

Fitz sat on the edge of her bed, staring at his hands which were twisting nervously in his lap. 

Jemma knew why he looked this way. She knew why the confident calm he had been expressing was breaking down, crumbling at her declaration that she needed to leave again.

 _Fitz, you understand,_  she says.  _You know it’s not because I want to leave._

He nods, but still keeps twisting his hands around themselves. _And you know,_ he starts, voice shaking, _that if we figure out a way to get back there, I’m sure as hell going with you._

She did know.She knew it too well.  _I know,_  she answers him, the ghost of a smile on her face.  _I don’t want you to be in danger, but I know I can’t stop you from coming with me._  

She opens her mouth to say more, but pauses. She’s not sure why she hesitates; she’s not sure why she has become so guarded, so afraid to be honest. She takes in a deep breath, because she knows. She knows he needs to hear it, and she needs to say it. 

_I know I can’t stop you, because I would do the same for you._

He looks up from his hands and his eyes meet hers. A jolt runs through Jemma, and not the jolt of fear she has become so accustomed to–a jolt of energy, nerves, excitement, affection. And something else. Something else that she knows the name of, but still can’t quite let it out. 

She can’t form the word yet even though she knows what it is. This word, this feeling, this bond with Fitz–if she says it, she might crumble under its weight. The weight that pounds in her chest as she looks into Fitz’s eyes, making her heart so full it aches. 

So she doesn’t name the word. She doesn’t try to explain to Fitz, because the word is too much and yet not enough. 

So she leans forward, and kisses him.


	15. Scene I'd Like to See: #13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> post 3x07

“For now,” he said, pausing momentarily to let out a trembling breath, “let’s just watch the sunrise.”

Jemma looked back towards the window, a small smile growing on her face. Part of her wanted Fitz to do something rash. She heard it in his voice, felt it in the shuttering breaths he let out—he wanted her, but he was holding back. Part of her wanted him to hold her, kiss her, push her against the wall and let her know, without a shadow of a doubt, that she was his. And she would kiss him back, embrace him, and let him know he was hers.

But he stood calmly beside her, and she was thankful for it. She was thankful for the sight in front of her, and her smile only widened as the rising sun began to warm her skin.

Several moments passed before she realized tears were streaming down her face. They were quiet tears—tears that leaked out as she smiled, as she closed her eyes and brought her hands to her arms, neck, and any other place the sun warmed.

She was home. Really _home_.

“Jemma?” Fitz said, noticing the tears. “Are you okay?” He took a step toward her, uncrossing his arms, but still not touching her.

Looking over at him, Jemma let out a laugh. “I honestly don’t know why I’m crying,” she answered. “I just… I know things aren’t perfect, but the weight of that planet—it’s finally wearing off.”

“Good,” he said simply, the corners of his mouth turning up at her laugh. “Thanks for letting me be here,” he said, looking at her without trying to hide his affection. “For letting me… intrude… on your moment to watch the sunrise. I know you’ve been waiting for that for a while.”

“Fitz…” she said, stepping forward and grabbing his hand. “You being here is the furthest thing from an intrusion. You—“

She paused. She knew how she wanted to end that sentence, but it sounded too cheesy, too sappy, too much—he was worth more than any sunrise. He _was_ her sunrise.

He squeezed her hand gently. “I missed you a lot, Jemma.”

She looked into his eyes and knew—knew that he understood what she wanted to say, and knew why she didn’t say it. “I missed you, too, Fitz. More than you could know.”

He smiled and looked back at the window, now brimming with hot light. “Can I make you some tea?”

Jemma beamed at him. “Yes, Fitz,” she said, “Yes, some tea would be nice. Maybe we can mind some pancake mix?”

Fitz chuckled as they turned from the window towards the kitchen. “You always have the best ideas.”

 


	16. Scene I'd like to see: #14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post 3x10

Jemma vaguely remembered the debriefing. Coulson took it slow, knowing that he and Fitz would have a difficult time explaining all that happened on that planet. 

She sat in the corner, staring into the void while Coulson told his piece. Ward was gone. He was gone. It was all she had wanted for so long, yet it didn’t feel like she thought it would. She felt relief, yes, but not the elation she imagined would come with Ward’s demise. 

Then Fitz began to tell his piece. Jemma locked eyes with him and couldn’t bring herself to look away. She saw so much pain–heard it in his voice. He thought he met Will, but he didn’t. Will was gone. Jemma had guessed as much when he wasn’t with the group. 

But that his body had been used by that thing. Jemma felt bile rising in her throat and had to excuse herself. She ran to the nearest toilet and sat, waiting, taking deep breaths to calm herself. 

Luckily the urge to vomit passed, and she closed her eyes, continuing to breathe slowly as she knelt by the toilet. After a moment, she felt a familiar set of hands begin to rub her back, tracing warm circles over her shoulders and spine. 

Fitz. 

She turned to look at him, feeling tears stain her face, and seeing tears on his. 

“Jemma, I’m so sorry he’s gone,” FItz choked out. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t bring his body back–let you properly say goodbye.” 

She began shaking her head earnestly. No. No, no, no. He didn’t need to be sorry for that. 

“Stop, Fitz,” she managed to say, as his eyebrows crossed in confusion. “There’s nothing you need to be sorry for. You came back to me.” She paused, leveling her breathing and sniffling. “You came back to me–that’s what I wanted most.”

As Fitz wrapped his arms around her, a fresh wave of guilt cursed through Jemma. “Does that make me a terrible person?” she asked him. 

“What, for being glad I’m alive? I hope not,” he answered, gently wiping away the tears on her face. “I doubt Will would want you to feel guilty for that.”

Jemma nodded into his chest. Maybe, just maybe, she could get through this.


	17. Scene I'd like to see: Falling Asleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post 3x10

A year ago, Jemma never would have admitted that she needed anything. She would have held it all in—distanced herself so that no one else would be burdened by her pain or her actions. 

But now, as Fitz stood, removing himself from her bed and her arms because he thought she was asleep, she didn’t have the energy to hold it in anymore. She’d been to Hell and back. She’d loved and lost. She’d given up hope completely, and now that she had it back—now that she had him back—she was never letting go again.

She grabbed onto his wrist before he could leave.

“Stay.”

The words fell out of her mouth along with her expelled breath. The desire for his presence had become as natural to her as the rhythmic push-and-pull of her lungs. She needed him.

In the back of her mind, a small voice explained the signs of weakness that needing a person showed. _Dependency; setting yourself up for disappointment; not believing in yourself enough._ It was the award-winning monologue that had a perpetual encore in her inner-narrative. At first, she had given a standing ovation to the production. Now she merely shrugged her shoulders, too exhausted to give a review.

Fitz nodded, taking off his shoes and settling back into the bed by her side.

 _He must be so confused,_ Jemma thought vaguely. She was mourning another man while clinging to Fitz as if he were her lifeline. She wanted to give him some sort of clarification, some sort of sign that _this—him—them_ was what she needed, but she had no idea how to convey such a thing in her state. Reaching her arms around him, she pulled him closer to her, knowing it wasn’t enough. Who was she kidding? Nothing was enough. There was no way to adequately explain to this man beside her what he meant to her. There were no words, no actions, no musical notes that would do him justice. But she had to do something.

Burrowing her head into the crook of his neck, she lightly kissed the skin there, almost as if her lips had accidentally grazed him. It was too little. Everything she did was too little, too late, or completely wrong. That pattern needed to change.

“Fitz,” she whispered gently against him, noticing his skin turning red as her lips ghosted over him like a feather, “I wanted you back most.” 

He stiffened at her words. “Jemma, you don’t have to—" 

“I wanted you back most,” she said again. Something about those words released a blocked emotional pathway with each recitation.

“I wanted you back most,” she said again, barely a whisper. _Relief._

“I wanted you back most.” _Guilt. Icy, intense, brutal guilt._

“I wanted you back most.” _Despair. Self-hatred. Desolation._

“I wanted you back most.” _Relief again. Hope. Calm._

Tears were now covering her face and soaking Fitz’s shirt. She had to keep going. She frantically recited the words as if they were a prayer, rolling her fingers over the hem of Fitz shirt as if the seam along his neckline was a necklace of wooden beads.

“I wanted you back most.” _Love. All the love she could give to him. To Fitz._

Finally, the compulsion passed, and she fell asleep, vaguely aware of the press of Fitz’s lips on her forehead as her eyes fluttered closed.


End file.
